


A Happy Thought

by bobbiewickham



Series: Barricade Day Ficlets [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobbiewickham/pseuds/bobbiewickham
Summary: At the barricade, Courfeyrac and Combeferre try to think of a happy thought.
Series: Barricade Day Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677256
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	A Happy Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Written and originally posted on Tumblr for Barricade Day 2019.

“Grant me a favor, my friend, and try to make your last thought a happy one.” Courfeyrac’s mouth twitched with his usual merriment, but his eyes were in earnest.

Combeferre reached for a witticism, searched his usually-ready mind for something, anything, to be shared with his friend as a small token of reassurance. He found nothing. No matter where he sought, inward or outward, everything seemed to translate to a funeral dirge. Bossuet was laughing with Joly, some of the workers were playing dominoes with a few of the Cougourde, but tragedy overhung them all like the blade of a giant guillotine.

The silence stretched too long. Courfeyrac’s understanding showed on his face. “I don’t need to tell you, of all people, why we’re here.” His voice was gentle, and if Combeferre had forgotten their cause for even a moment, which he hadn’t, speaking to Courfeyrac was all that was needed for him to remember. 

“Of course not.” Combeferre knew it better than anyone, but he also knew the costs. Their ideals were just, rational and, above all, distant; the price was bloody and immediate. “I know it. But knowing is different from feeling.” He sighed, and admitted, with a wry smile, “It’s less potent.” How many times had he and Courfeyrac argued over this very subject, Combeferre espousing cool rationality, while Courfeyrac championed the heart? This was Combeferre’s final gift to his friend, it seemed: conceding the point.

Courfeyrac was not impervious to the thrill of victory, even at this moment. His eyes danced. But all he said was, “You trust me, don’t you? Don’t answer that.” A grin, swift and cat-like. “You trust Enjolras, then.” Combeferre’s glance slipped sideways to where Enjolras sat, close enough to overhear, his form still as a coiled snake and shadowy in the twilight. “Trust that he’s not alone. Trust that others will be like him—like us, like you—in the future. Trust that they’ll know what happens here, and carry it further, and win.”

It was not precisely a happy thought. Happiness would be knowing there was no need for a fight, no need for death. But it warmed Combeferre, and he carried it close until the end.


End file.
